


Auld Lang Syne (Or the Selfless Maiden and her Poisoned Prince)

by rumpledspinster



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alcoholism, Angst, F/M, consumption (pneumonia), morality tale, mugged in an alley, set in the early 1900s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 03:46:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5612728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rumpledspinster/pseuds/rumpledspinster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lottery of sorts is held every new year's eve amongst the sinners who pass at the last stroke of midnight. One of them will be chosen to be the devil's coachman for one year, being forced to observe the death of every person who passes over the new year and dragging those sinners who attempt to run from their fate to hell. Time is meaningless to the coachman and the year to them is 73,000 years. Rumford Gold has allowed his life to become a shambles of misery, but it isn't until he is chosen to be the devil's coachman that he finally realizes the extent of misery his actions have brought down on those he loves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Auld Lang Syne (Or the Selfless Maiden and her Poisoned Prince)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is inspired by the silent film, "The Phantom Carriage" This is part one, with a part two on its way.

Salvation Army Sister Belle lay dying in her two room apartment. It occurred to her that today was the one-year anniversary of the day she contracted the virulent consumption that seems so intent on snuffing her out altogether, but she wouldn’t change a single thing about that day because the man from whom she picked up the disease turned out to be her true love. Her poisoned prince.

Thump! Belle shifted in the bed, sitting up somewhat to see who had come through the door. 

“I thought I’d never get the door open!” Belle’s long-time comrade Salvation Army Sister Mary-Margaret huffed as she shed her coat onto a nearby chair. 

Belle struggled for enough breath to speak, in a small voice she answered Mary-Margaret’s unasked question, “The air has been moist in here. I haven’t been able to get around of late and the air has become stale. The door has probably swollen somewhat.”  
Mary-Margaret quickly took a seat at the chair by Belle’s bedside. “Shhh, don’t try to talk, you’ll only wear yourself out.”

Belle nodded slightly, “Tell me what the weather is like, really describe it. I miss the outside.”

Mary-Margaret choked back tears at Belle’s request, “Well to look at the sky everything looks grey and it hangs heavy with clouds. Through the window it looks rough and chilly, but to be out in it was to find it surprisingly mild and balmy.”  
Belle gave a sigh as she lay resting with her eyes closed. Mary-Margaret watched her with a look of sorrow. Poor Belle, she thought to herself, but I did warn her. I told her to take time off, but she is so dedicated, always helping others. She worked such long hours all year. Mary-Margaret shuddered to remember that terrible night a few months ago when she had heard a metal tray go clattering to the ground, shattering the silence like an executioner’s axe on the neck of the condemned. She had ran toward the source of the sound and found Belle slumped on the cold wood floor. She had been taken to a sanitarium and given the dreaded diagnosis, consumption. Mary-Margaret had held on to hope though, after all Belle had always been a fighter having almost single handedly fundraised the money for the local shelter and damn near building it herself, but they nursed her for a few months before declaring her case hopeless and discharging her to die at home. That day had been a shock for Mary-Margaret. Belle’s father had money, naturally Mary-Margaret assumed he would take Belle home, but to her dismay Mr. French flat out refused claiming that nursing Belle’s mother through the illness that had taken her life had been trying enough for one lifetime. Mary-Margaret had fumed! How dare he! He had never visited his daughter while she was in care and now he was refusing her shelter and comfort in her end of days. Finally Mr. French conceded to the extent of having a physician check in with Belle from time to time, but as far as Mary-Margaret was concerned Maurice French was still the scum of the earth. Mary-Margaret looked around Belle’s apartment and sighed sadly. Belle wouldn’t let her dip into her own paycheck to help pay for something nicer, claiming that her needs were few and she would make do as long as she could; but this…this place was cold, threadbare, dark, and dank. It might has well of been a crypt. Hatred for Maurice French burned in Mary-Margaret’s heart and in that moment she suspected that she couldn’t be bothered to piss on him if he were on fire.  
Today was New Year’s Eve, a time for reflecting on the year and letting go of grudges. Mary-Margaret took a deep breath and emptied her mind of hateful thoughts. She let her eyes drift to the window and her thoughts to the streets below. Perhaps it will be quiet, she silently hoped, quiet would be a comfort to Belle.  
Just then Belle began to wheeze and cough. “Mary, help me to sit up please.” Mary-Margaret gently propped up Belle’s pillows and helped her to sit up a bit more. “Mary, I need you to do something for me please.” Mary-Margaret nodded. “Find Rumford and Bae. Ask them to come see me. Tell them it is my one last wish.”  
Mary-Margaret nodded, though she doubted that Rumford would be moved enough to comply with the request. She had only ever known him to be a selfish man.  
Chapter 2

Fog floated along the ground of the graveyard as the full moon rose into the sky. Rumford Gold had already had too much to drink, but decided there couldn’t be any harm in being thorough with the drowning of his sorrows.  
Jefferson staggered between the gravestones carrying two bottles of wine. “As promised, two bottles of somewhat decent vino.”  
Rumford took the bottle held out to him and nodded his approval to his drinking buddy. Jefferson had a similar disposition to Rumford when it came to drinking. Jefferson and Rumford had been partners once upon a time. Rumford offered tailoring while Jefferson specialized in millinery, but those days were gone now.  
Rumford took a long swig of wine, “Have ye heard of the devil’s coachman?”  
Jefferson stared bleary eyed for a moment before shaking his head no.  
“Well my old commander in the war, a man by the name of Zozo told me about this legend of the devil’s coachman. You see, every New Year’s Eve, at the last second before midnight, somewhere some unlucky sinner dies and is chosen for a special punishment on top of eternal damnation.”  
Jefferson hiccupped, “Sort of like an unlucky lottery winner?”  
Rumford shrugged, “I suppose so. Anyway, this person becomes death’s coachman and must collect the souls of every one who dies the following year.”  
Jefferson seemed in deep thought, and just as Rumford was afraid he had dozed off open eyed, he spoke. “Wait, how does he have enough time to do that? People must die at the same time all over the world.”  
Rumford smiled, “And that is what makes it such a horrid fate. Death’s coachman is not bound by time. He must collect every last soul, and so the year might as well be an eternity and when it is finally over you get shipped off to hell. Although, it is said that the soul gets a second judgement at the end of the eternal year, so perhaps it isn’t such an unlucky lottery after all.” Rumford took another swig of wine from the dusty bottle, “The funny thing is, Zozo seemed to really believe in this legend. Last New Year’s Eve he was dying, consumption. He was probably the bastard what gave it to me. He lay there dying and the whole time he stared at the clock. He was real fervid at that point and started muttering to himself about making it past midnight.”  
Jefferson stared wide eyed, “And did he?”  
Rumford swallowed a mouthful of wine, “Did he what?”  
“Did he make it?”  
Rumford shook his head, “That’s what made it so strange, he was so worried about making it past midnight and the bastard died at the last chime of the clock on New Year’s Eve.”  
Just then Mary-Margaret approached them clearly winded, she let out an exhausted sigh, “Mr. Gold Belle is asking for you. She is dying and she would really like to speak to you before…before she goes.”  
Rumford huffed, “Probably wants to tear me a new one. Well I don’t think I’ll give her the satisfaction.”  
Mary-Margaret spat in his direction, “I knew you wouldn’t come you heartless bastard.” Mary-Margaret turned on her heel and ran off out of the cemetery.  
Jefferson pushed Gold hard on the shoulder.  
“Ahh! What was that fer?” Rumford shouted in pain as he rubbed his shoulder in an attempt to ease the soreness that was building there.  
“Belle is probably the best person in the universe at the moment. She has always had her hand out to the both of us, and now that she needs a hand herself you see fit to turn your back.” Jefferson was red faced and drunk emotion colored his words.  
Rumford simply waved Jefferson’s words off condescendingly.  
Jefferson saw red. He lunged forward pushing Rumford to the ground before stumbling to his feet and leaving.  
In the split second that Rumple had to think after Jefferson lunged at him he prepared himself to feel the cold ground beneath him, but to the complete shock of his body, his head made contact with the edge of a tombstone. Rumford saw red streak across his vision and felt something wet and sticky covering the back of his head. As the church bells rang out the last chime of the year, Rumford’s awareness left him. 

Chapter 3  
Rumford was confused as he looked out over the cemetery. Shouldn’t he be sore? Perhaps the alcohol had soothed the pain of the fall. Clip, clop, clip, clop. The sound of an approaching carriage drew Rumford’s attention to the cemetery gate where to his horror he saw a dark carriage driven by a man in a dark hooded cloak and led by a skeletal team of horses whose manes flowed like ink in water and whose eyes burned like hot coals.  
“No…it can’t be.” Rumford stumbled backward falling next to his lifeless corpse. “NO! Please!” Rumford began to sob.  
The carriage came to a stop and the driver stepped down. “Fitting that it would be you who would be chosen to take my place.”  
I know that voice, Rumford thought. “Zozo?”  
The driver lowered his hood, “Indeed it is Rumford.”  
Rumford was speechless. It was true, all of it. And now…  
Zozo took a seat next to Rumford’s spirit and sighed. “As pleased as I am to be done with this cursed assignment, I am sorry to see it be passed on to you. I’m sorry Rumford. For my part in your downfall, I am truly sorry.”  
Rumford shook his head, “I don’t understand. You don’t choose your replacement right?”  
Zozo shook his head, “No I do not.”  
“Then what are you sorry for.”  
Zozo exhaled sadly, “Oh Rumford. When you served under me in the war I rode you hard.”  
“You rode everyone hard.”  
“Yes, but I was particularly cruel to you at times and it’s because you reminded me of my brother. My parents doted on him, but as far as I was concerned I was superior. Bigger, stronger, braver… Rumford, I see now that my words wounded you more completely than the bullets ever could.”  
Rumford could feel the self-loathing creeping up on him, “But you were right, I am a coward. I ran. I have nightmares.”  
Zozo placed a hand on Rumford’s shoulder, “You are not a coward. Yes, you were afraid, but we all were and honestly a man who isn’t afraid when people are shooting at him has a death wish.”  
Rumford shook his head, “A brave man wouldn’t have nightmares.”  
“Nightmares affect us all. Few will understand the extent of what we have seen and endured. Your mind couldn’t help reliving some of that terror from time to time because of the fear that somehow you would find yourself scared once more. When you wake up though, you feel relieved. It’s because you are a fighter.”

Rumford simply held his head in his hands. Zozo sighed, “I destroyed what little self-esteem you had and led you down a road of ruin. You were a teetotaler when I met you. You only started drinking when I pushed you into it, and it has become a crutch to you; one that has led you to lose the life of happiness you could’ve had.”  
“What happiness?” Rumford shrugged as he tried to hold back tears. 

He thought back over his life. As a child he was abandoned by his abusive father and left to be raised by his matronly aunts. He had grown up friendless in a town that shunned him. He had met and married a girl who seemed eager to be a soldier’s bride just before being swept up as a soldier in the Great War. He had hoped to return to a loving wife, but what he found was an abusive one. He had hoped that the marriage could be saved with the birth of their son Bae, but it was not to be. She had taken to drinking heavily and one day she simply left, never to return. Life as a single father had been hard and he had taken to drinking, something he hadn’t done since the war. His son, now a young man, had begged him to stop. “There are jobs in America,” he had said, “please Papa. Let’s go there and make a new life where we can start fresh. We can start a business together as father and son.” Rumford had agreed, but life was still difficult after the move and he had taken to drinking once again and it had driven his son away. And now it seemed he would never get the chance to make it up to him. 

Chapter 4  
Rumford was brought to the present as Zozo helped him to his feet. Zozo motioned for him to join him in the driver’s seat of the carriage. “I am sorry that this is to be your fate Rumford, but such is the risk that all sinners take.”

Rumford looked out over the ghostly horse as Zozo took the reins, “So I am to be the coachman of death for a year?”

Zozo nodded, “a year in the time of the living world, but for you it will be the equivalent of 73,000 years.”

“73,000 years?!” Rumple stuttered.

“Aye, it takes that long to collect every soul that passes from this world over the span of a year. And now it is time that I showed you your duties.” With that said, the carriage set off. 

They stopped in front of a rundown building and made their way to a desolate apartment, moving through the walls as if they were no more than fog.  
“Whose home is this? Who have we come for?” Rumford asked.  
“You shall soon see.” Zozo replied.

As they reached the hall leading to the last apartment Rumford spotted Mary-Margaret speaking to her husband David and realization began to dawn on him. 

David sighed, “Is there really no hope for her?”  
Mary-Margaret wiped her tears with the back of her hand, “Rumford Gold has been her undoing. She has been fighting this illness since he infected her with it last New Year’s Eve and she has taken no time to rest. She spends all her time worrying over him, yet the man couldn’t even be bothered to give her the time of day.”

Rumford pulled on Zozo’s cloak, “No! Please! Not her!”

“You possessed all that is wonderful in this world but you rejected it, you cannot escape the torment of remorse.”  
Zozo dragged him into the depressing room and dumped him in the floor at the front of Belle’s bed. Belle opened her eyes and looked up at the coachman of death. “Angel of death I beg of you, please give me some more time. There is someone I must see before I go. Someone I must talk sense into. It’s the man I love! Don’t you see? I can’t leave this world without telling him that I love him and believe in him! He can still have a good life, even if it isn’t with me. You do not know what terrible misfortune I have caused. I cannot approach the Lord until I have set it right!”

Rumford began to sob in the floor. Why hadn’t he tried to be a better man? Why had he fought her at every turn?

Zozo shook his head sadly, “I would grant you that reprieve, but it would do no good. You have no power over this man. Believing he was good you tried to help him mend his ways, but your hopes have been dashed time and again.” 

Belle had first met Rumford exactly one year ago on New Year’s Eve. It was just before midnight when there was a knock on the door of the shelter. Belle had been so excited; this would be the first person she would help. Mary-Margaret hadn’t wanted to open the door, “We are not ready.” She had claimed, but Belle wouldn’t be deterred from offering what help she could. She could see that the man was suffering. His clothes were worn through in places and he had a terrible cough. She had taken him in and tucked him into bed, before staying up all night mending his clothes for him. Mary-Margaret had been appalled, “His clothes are undoubtedly covered in germs and our sanitation oven is not yet installed! You are taking your life in your hands.” But Belle had waved her off, “It is snowing out. I couldn’t live with myself if I allowed him to leave with his clothes in such a state.”

The next morning Rumford had been rude. He had yelled at Belle. “I don’t need your charity!” He had shouted as he tore some of the patches she had worked so hard to sew out of his coat. But Belle would not be deterred. She had kept tabs on him, traced his movements through town and continued to try to get him to straighten out his life. He had shrugged her off at first. Surely if he continued to be rude to her, she would lose her ill placed fascination with him, but that had not been the case. Belle had been there for him whenever he had needed her. She would take him in when he had had a bit too much to drink and had nursed him through the worst of his consumption. It was because of her that he had recovered. 

They had become friends and he had shared more about his life, thoughts, and fears with her than he had anyone else. She had listened and when she heard about Bae she had set out to find him. Where he had failed in finding his son, she had succeeded. She had not only saved Bae from the streets, but had gotten him a job. Belle was an angel. Bae saw her as the mother he had always wanted, and as a favor to her he had agreed to meet with his father. Rumford had happiness within his grasp yet he threw it all away. 

Things had gone well at first. Belle had helped Rumford and Bae to get a nice little apartment to share. She had helped to furnish it and make it feel like a home. Bae had forgiven his father for the past on the condition that he give up drinking. Rumford was another person when he drank, he became rude and picked fights. That wasn’t Bae’s papa, that was the man who had abandoned him. Rumford had agreed, but he still drank in secret. He thought that his son was overreacting. He could handle his liquor. but Bae found out and left. 

It had broken Rumford’s heart to return to his apartment to find that Bae had left, but the sadness soon gave way to anger and that anger was directed toward Belle. He had yelled at her, “This is all your fault! You turned him against me!” She had begged and pleaded with him. She had promised to help him and support him as he got his life back on track. “I’ll never give up on you. I know that there is goodness in you and I will never stop fighting to free it.” Her words had infuriated him, “Why?” he had asked. She leaned in, “Because I love you Rumford.” As if in a daze he had leaned toward her and allowed her to kiss him, but no sooner was the kiss over that he fell back on the self-loathing that had been his companion over the years. He had grabbed her roughly about the arms and shook her, “You’re lying! No one could ever love me!” With that said, he had thrown her out of the apartment. That night he had destroyed nearly everything, leaving the apartment in shambles. He had regretted it all the next day, and for a time he had hoped that Belle would return to him. She didn’t return and he had assumed that she had finally seen him for the monster he truly was, but as it had turned out she had finally succumbed to the consumption she had contracted that night she had stayed up mending the clothing he had so cruelly torn.  
Chapter 5  
Belle cried at Zozo’s words, “I’ll never give up on him. He can be saved! I’m to blame for his decline. I shouldn’t have pushed him. I have ruined his future with his son!”

At those words Rumple stood up and faced Belle, “Oh sweetheart, that’s not true! I am the one at fault! Please forgive me Belle.”

Belle gasped at the sight of him, “Rumford! You came!”

Rumford took Belle’s hand in his own, “Aye, love. I only wish it had been sooner.”

Zozo shook his head sadly as he waved his hand over Belle, “Oh ye captive, pure of heart, be free of thy prison.”  
At his words, Belle slumped lifeless upon the bed. 

“No! Belle!” Rumple cried out at the sight of her. He turned on Zozo, “Spare her! I beg of you!”

“I haven’t the power to save her. Her fate has been taken out of our hands.” With that said, Zozo forcefully led Rumford back to the carriage and they set off. 

“It is our duty to attend the dying, witness their passing and deliver the sinners who try to avoid their fate. It is a difficult job, and there have been a great many horrific things I have had to bear witness to over the course of this punishment. We cannot interfere; we can only watch.” Zozo’s voice was sorrowful.

“Then what is the point?” Rumford could feel dread weighing on his chest as the carriage continued its journey. 

Zozo sighed, “The point is that you and I have been given the opportunity to be reunited with those we love. Had we not been chosen we would have been judged and I have no doubt that we would be writhing in hell right now if that had been the case. I cannot speak for what your experience will be, but as for me, I am changed. I have seen murder, needless death, shipwrecks, women die in childbirth and children die of fever. I have traveled the whole of this world and witnessed it all. I have seen great acts of kindness as well as cruelty. I am remorseful, and I hope that shows when I am rejudged.” Rumford looked forlornly out at the foggy night. Zozo tapped him on the shoulder, “My friend, if I could send a message to mankind, a New Year’s prayer, it would be that we should all pray that our soul comes to maturity before it is reaped.” Rumford considered his words, and was beginning to see the truth in them.

They came to a stop at the entrance of an alley not far from Belle’s apartment. Rumford felt as if he were being drawn forward by an invisible tether. As he made his way down the alley he saw that the soul they had come for was Bae’s. “No! Not my son! Please! Oh God No!” Rumford fell to his knees next to Bae’s shivering body. “What happened to him?”

Zozo lowered his hood, “Belle called for him to beg his forgiveness. Bae loved her like a mother and so he rushed to her side. He told her that there was nothing to forgive; that she held no fault. It broke him to think he would lose her. He told her that he didn’t believe you could change, but that he would seek you out and bring you to her. He had asked for you at the bar, and was told that your friend Jefferson had just left out the back with two bottles of wine. Bae followed and was attacked, robbed, and left for dead. Perhaps if someone had found him sooner he might have been saved, but now…”

Rumford sobbed as he could do nothing more than watch Bae bleed out in a dank, dark alley. Bae blinked as his eyes focused on Rumford, “Papa?” Rumford sobbed, “I’m here son. I’m here. I’m so sorry son! I do love you! I’ll change! I swear it!”  
Bae struggled for breath, “I love you Papa. Please change. Tell Belle she was more of a mother to me than the woman who birthed me and that I love her.” Bae slumped lifeless and still against the cold ground. 

Rumford wailed, the sound of it was inhuman as pulled at his hair, “Please God! Spare them! Belle and Bae don’t deserve this fate! I would serve my sentence as coachman and endure an eternity in hell on top of it, but please! Please spare them!”

Zozo smiled down at the sight of Rumford, “I see I no longer need weep for you Rumford. Do not squander the gift you are being given.”

Chapter 6  
Rumford felt himself moving through the air like a gust of wind and then all at once he was falling. He jerked up and found that he was once again in his body in the cemetery. “Oh God please! Let there be time!” Rumford turned and looked at the clock on the church’s tower; one minute after midnight. A new year. Rumford scrambled to his feet and ran toward the alley he had just left. 

He hadn’t felt so alive in years. He had been using alcohol to numb his insecurities, but now he realized that it had numbed him to everything. He could feel now. He was keenly aware of the pain and soreness he felt, but he would endure it gladly to save Belle and Bae. 

He rounded the corner just in time to see Bae stumbling along the wall of the alley. “Son!” Rumford rushed forward and took Bae protectively in his arms. 

Bae looked wonderingly at Rumford, “Papa? I was looking for you.”

“I know son. I’m sorry, about everything. I’ve changed! I’m not the man I once was! I’ll prove it to you and Belle. I’ll prove it every day!” Rumford helped Bae to stumble toward Belle’s apartment where he hoped Mary-Margaret and David still were.  
To his great relief they were still there and with a yell for help they came running and swiftly took Bae to hospital. Rumford kissed his son and promised to see him when he could, but for now he desperately needed to see Belle.

Everything was just as it had been when his spirit had visited and the remembrance made his heart ache. “Belle.” Rumford fell at his feet at her bedside. He grasped her hand and held it to his face. Belle looked up at him lovingly, “Rumford! You came!”

Tears streaked down Rumford’s cheeks, “Yes love! Oh Belle I’ve changed and I’m ready to love you!”

Epilogue:  
Bae recovered from his wounds and returned to his job in a print shop. He and his father made amends and found themselves closer than they had been in many years. Bae met and fell in love with the Printer’s daughter and as the new year came to an end they welcomed a healthy baby boy into the world. 

*** Stay tuned for the next installment of this verse:  
Sin Auld Lang Syne (Or Forever After) by rumpledspinster


End file.
